


Sneak Attack

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Humor, M/M, None - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 03:17:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Evil Blair does something unkind to poor Jim, and poor Jim claims his revenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sneak Attack

**Author's Note:**

> The surgeon general has determined that plot is hazardous to your health; therefore, consider this my contribution to your longevity.

## Sneak Attack

by Texas Ranger

Author's disclaimer: They're mine! They're all mine!

* * *

Blair looked out on the balcony at Jim lying peacefully, eyes closed, on a chaise longue, and thought,"Awwww! How sweet. He really looks serene, rested, at one with his surroundings. I should leave him alone." 

The less pure side of Blair's personality, which, to be fair, didn't often see the light of day, chose that moment to assert itself. *Go on. Do it. He'd do it to you.* 

*But he hasn't done anything even remotely evil to me in a long time* Good Blair protested. *In fact, he was _real_ good to me last night* 

Evil Blair rolled his eyes. *Not the point. Just consider this a pre-emptive strike.* 

*He'll kill us* Good Blair lamented. 

*Most likely, but the look on his face will be worth it* 

Blair told his good side to piss off and stalked quietly out to Jim. Closer. Closer. Jim still hadn't opened his eyes. 

_Easy prey_ snickered Evil Blair. 

He raised his weapon... 

"Sandburg," Jim said conversationally,"if you hit me with that water balloon it'll be your last act in this particular incarnation." 

The element of surprise lost, Blair lowered the balloon. "How'd you know?" he pouted. 

Jim yawned lazily. "I smelled the rubber, heard the water sloshing, and put two and two together. I am a detective, you know." 

Blair was silent for a moment. "Just out of curiosity-I mean, no real reason for asking-what would you have done if I'd douched you with water?" 

Jim stretched, considered carefully, then replied,"Imagine your skin ripped from your body and fire ants poured over your exposed nerve endings while being suspended over a pot of boiling oil by a thin, rapidly fraying cord." 

Blair's eyes widened. "You'd do that?" 

"Nope. Something worse." Jim sighed contentedly and shifted to a more comfortable position. 

"Oh." Blair stood still for a split second, then deliberately hefted the balloon like a plutonium bomb and sent it whizzing down to ground zero, which happened to be his lover's face. 

Jim howled as the freezing cold water soaked his sun-warmed head and neck. "SANDBUUUUURG!" he thundered, leaping to his feet, but Blair had wisely gone the way of the blue suede shoe. 

"Blair?" Jim cooed softly, searching the loft for his wayward mate. "Oh, Chiiief? Come out, baby. I'm not mad. I won't hurt you." 

The anthropologist maintained a prudent silence. 

"Okay, if that's the way you want it." Jim turned up his senses and scanned. Herbal shampoo. Rapid heartbeat. Stifled giggle. 

Blair. 

Jim smiled the smile of a predator closing in on fresh game. He followed his Guide's trail upstairs, soundlessly, as he'd been taught in the Rangers, and tracked him to the closet. He tiptoed over, flung open the door, and screamed,"HEEEERE'S JIMMY!" He made a grab for Blair, but the anthropologist threw an old blanket over the Sentinel's head and made his escape, dashing down the stairs, cackling madly. Jim heard the bathroom door slam shut and the lock click. 

Safe for the moment, Blair relaxed on the side of the tub, catching his breath. *Oh, man, was that fun! The expression on his face when the balloon hit-pure gold. Of course, the downside is that I might have to live in this bathroom for the rest of my life, but maybe not. Jim has to go to work sometime, right? Until then...well, at least I have some water, and thank God I shoved these Tictacs in my pocket this morning.* 

That's when the scratching at the door began. 

"Jim?" Blair ventured timidly. 

Scratchscratchscratch. 

*What the hell is he up to? Good thing I locked the door.* 

Said door suddenly burst open and hit the wall. Jim stood in the doorway, smiling menacingly and holding up his lockpick in triumph. He began to advance on his Guide. "Hi, Blair," he said casually. 

Blair tried to back away, but his butt hit the wall. "Hehheh. Jim, hey man, about that water-" 

"You like water, Blair?" Jim asked. He struck with the blinding speed of a viper, grabbing his mate and yanking him out of the tub. "Try this." He bent Blair backwards over the toilet and dipped his head into the bowl. 

"Come on, man! It's not very clean in here!" Blair protested, voice muffled by the Porcelain God. 

"Bet you wish you'd scrubbed the john like you were supposed to, huh, Chief?" Jim reached the flush. 

Blair began to wiggle desperately. "You wouldn't...AAAAAAUUUGH!" The plea turned into a shriek as Jim flushed, soaking Blair's long curls with toilet water. 

"That's what we used to call a swirlie in the army," Jim remarked. "Have you learned your lesson?" 

"Ellison, you son of a bitch!" Blair sputtered. 

"No," Jim said regretfully. "I guess not. You're a tough kid, but there's one thing you've never been able to handle." 

Jim lifted his Guide out of the johnboy, slung him over his shoulder, and flopped him onto his back on the living room floor. Water flew everywhere as Blair hit the carpet with a thud. 

"So long, kid," Jim pounced on his partner and ran his fingers lightly over his ribs. Blair reacted immediately, squirming and giggling. "Apologize," Jim demnded. 

"Never!" Blair yelled, trying to knock the big man's hands away from sensitive skin. 

"Too bad," Jim commented, and went to work on Blair's tummy. "One last chance, Chief. Apologize." 

Giggling hysterically, Blair could only shake his head and snort. Jim moved one hand to Blair's side and tickled mercilessly. 

Helpless, Blair began to hiccup frantically. "Jim-" hic! "Jim-" hic!giggle! "-gonna be sick-" hic!snort! "-on you!" gigglegigglegiggle! 

Weighing the cost of dry cleaning the carpet against his need for revenge, Jim decided enough was enough. He pulled his Guide into his arms and patted his back soothingly. "Settle down, Blair," he soothed. Blair leaned against his Sentinel and took a few deep breaths. His heart slowed to something like normal and the hiccups stopped. Finally, he looked up at Jim with the last and most powerful weapon in his arsenal. "You're finished, right?" Blair blinked long lashes over Mediterranean blue eyes. "No more revenge?" 

Jim didn't answer. 

"Honey?" Blair begged. "Sweetheart? Lover? Kissyface?" blinkblink. 

Jim weakened. 

Blair pursed his full lips and leaned up for a kiss. "Love you." 

Jim melted. "Love you," he agreed, and leaned down to claim his kiss. "But then," he continued, "you never did apologize, did you." 

"Love you?" Blair tried again. 

Jim broke into a big grin and scooped Blair into his arms. "Good idea!" he said, and headed for the stairs. --------------------------------------------------------D'End----------------------------------------------------- 

Author's note: The swirlie incident is real. Only names have been changed to protect the innocent. Sorry, Cousin Paul. 

* * *

End Sneak Attack.


End file.
